Undercover and Silk
by CrazyIndigoChild
Summary: WLL scene. Mistoffelees and Munkustrap are on the verge of breakthrough; they've found Macavity, invited themselves to his "Memorial" dinner, and are going to finally put an end to his crazed rule of the black economy. One problem: the dinner's to commemorate Mistoffelees' death. One solution: go as one very prestigious, very female guest. Crossdress, slight slash, swearing.


"I can honestly say I've never really had someone approach me with such an odd request before..." The heiress rambled as she herded Mistoffelees into one of her many walk-in closets. Before closing the great wooden door behind her, the tux gave his partner one last desperate glance over the white queen's shoulder. He got a sympathetic smile in return... until it cracked into a cheeky grin moments before he was sealed out of sight. "...Mistoffelees?"

The black tom shook himself back into the room. "I'm sorry?" She stood behind him, taking off his jacket to hang up on a nearby coat-rack.

"I asked whether you wanted pink or lavender?" She gracefully led him to a seating area across from the majestic showing section of mirrors. She poured him a glass of water from a delicate glass pitcher. Everything seemed delicate in his house; it worried him.

"I was thinking maybe black or..." the elegant queen spun around to shoot him a disgusted death glare. Obviously that wasn't the right answer. "...Nevermind. Whichever you think looks nice."

With a dramatic flourish, she disappeared into the adjacent room. Around the corner, he could see the lineup of dresses; all shapes, lengths, and colours. He realized what the water was for; he could feel his throat drying up. In the closet, he could hear her bustling and rambling. "I'm a bit excited to see how you capture my curves and complexion."

"... Me too."

"...And if there's anything else you need, just let me know," Griddlebone smiled warmly as she showed her apprentice to the door, taking care to guide him now that he has entitlement to her body and social circle.

"Oh, and Mistoffelees. Do watch the fabric, it's very expensive. I don't care if you tear it, just make sure it doesn't stain."

Giving the gown a parting caress, he reluctantly handed him the air-tight bag once she'd seen that it be put away properly. Like the high-class lady she was, she bid her special guests goodbye with a quick peck on each cheek. While giving the tux his goodbye graces, she skillfully slipped a photo into his hand. "In case you need a reminder, darling."

And with that, they took their gear and left; Mistoffelees trying desperately to carry the dress as the classy queen instructed until she was out of view, and Munkustrap trying to figure out how Mistoffelees would wrestle on the six inch, strappy heels in his hand. The weight of the makeup bag in his other hand almost made him feel bad for the unfortunate tom.

The walk to the car was quiet and rather uncomfortable. Munkustrap was the first to break the silence. "So... pick out something nice?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Mistoffelees mumbled, tossing the dress in the back seat haphazardly. Munkustrap quietly placed the remaining accessories in the trunk. Closing the lid, he noticed the tux leaning solemnly against the hood of the car, biting his nails in thought and digging his shoe into the loose gravel.

"Mistoffelees?" No response. The tuxed tom hadn't moved until he found himself face-to-face with the curious tabby. "Look, I know you're not happy about having to-"

This evoked a response. "Not happy? Munkustrap, I'm showing up to my own funeral in stilettos and breasts. Unhappy is a bit of an understatement."

Leaning forwards, Munkustrap placed his hands on the hood on either side of the magician. Lowering his head, he leveled their gaze so their faces rested a couple inches apart. "You don't have to do it. There are _other_ ways to skin a pollicle, you know."

"No," the black tom sighed, stopping himself short to give his lover a playful smirk. "So now we're skinning pollicles? I should have traded in my heels for boots."

There was the Mistoffelees he knew. Smiling, he gently but firmly kissed his cheek, giving him a brief nuzzle to elicit a small grunt of disapproval. Mistoffelees still hadn't exactly warmed up to the idea of affection, but the

teasing nuzzles and good natured pats slowly began winning him over. Fortunately Munkustrap took pleasure in still being able to get under his skin, or he would have been less patient with the tux's disaffection.

"How about we go home and get you ready for the party? I'm thinking we're going to have to break in your heels."

Resignedly, Mistoffelees nodded and pushed himself off the hood. "But we have to stop at the store," he began, digging into the tabby's jacket pocket for the car keys, refusing to pass up any chance to assert his masculinity. "Ten pounds of jerky ought to help ease my insecurities."

"They're too big, I'm going to topple over!" Mistoffelees protested, awkwardly clutching his new bust to his chest. Victoria and Bombalurina, his self-appointed beauticians, grinned darkly; each introduction to queenhood more dramatic and hilarious than the last.

The tom had yet to relinquish his tuxedo pattern and distinctive features to the transformation in hopes of retaining what was left of his manliness. He had to admit that he looked more ridiculous than if he'd just committed to Griddlebone's physique; he could imagine the look on Tugger and Munkustrap's face if they would have seen him now.

"You won't topple," Bombalurina assured. Being a rather chesty queen herself, she could attest from experience that she'd never lost balance due to her breasts. But then again, she had her whole life to adjust. "Just hold on to Munk for balance. Especially if those heels start to tire you out."

Mistoffelees cast a glance at the intimidating heels set beside the vanity. "You sure I won't look too conspicuous?"

From his back, Victoria giggled. "Conspicuous?" She tugged and jerked at the jammed zipper, stuffing the already fluffy fur inside the dress as she passed. "All the other queens will already be using their toms as crutches; why would you be any exception?... Suck in."

"You don't honestly think we invite you toms to these gatherings to show you off!" Bombalurina scoffed, sampling the mountain of makeup that Mistoffelees had brought back with him. "You're simply another accessory to counteract the shoes and, in your case, the boob balance."

A low hiss tore angrily as fur ripped off his back from the passing zipper, the space between his skin and the dress growing tight and bothersome. "...Vicky, are you sure the dress is supposed to be this tight around the-"

"Of course," the white queen snapped, her brow furrowed in thought as she gently pulled the zipper along. "Now suck in!" _Suck what in!_

It had taken them a good hour to coax Mistoffelees into his full transformation; dress, physique, makeup, and shoes. The dress was fairly tight-fitting with all the excess fur taken into account, but it looked absolutely magnificent nonetheless. It was a lavender shaded gown that began just above the bust, creating a rather risque V cut down the cleavage; the mid section was slim-fitting with darling trails of ruffles that ran diagonally down its length, making an almost swirl. Just above his hips the sleek silk exploded into a waterfall of folds, layers, and frills that trailed behind him as he tottered along in the overdone stilettos.

"I- I don't know if I can do this," Mistoffelees groaned as he clutched himself uneasily. Sitting in front of him, Bombalurina nibbled on a piece of licorice, looking him over one last time before the big reveal. Victoria had long ago gone to fetch the other toms, leaving the tux plenty of time to have second guesses and to find ways to talk himself out of it. It's not as though he _had _to do it.

The scarlet queen clucked her tongue disapprovingly, leaning forward to smack him across the face with her licorice. It actually hurt. "What ever happened to that cold, snarky, I-do-what-I-want-when-I-want asshole we all hated so much?"

"I'm still an asshole!" Mistoffelees frowned, tearing the candy from her when she retracted for another assault. "And I don't_ want_ to do this. So you're pretty much telling me I should listen to my better judgment and not to go through with it." He took a bite of the licorice, slumping back into his chair, when the front living area of the den came to life with loud wolf-whistling, hollering, and laughter.

Grinning, the scarlet queen looked between him and the door. "So why _are_ you doing it then?"

"Bring her out!" Victoria giggled, setting the stage for their eager and uncertain audience. The tux grimaced at the jest, tossing the scarlet queen an annoyed look before taking her hand to be led out to the others. One hand on his chest, the other clutching Bombalurina's arm for dear life, they slowly emerged from the bedroom.

The reactions were mixed when he scanned the crowd. The cat before them was completely unrecognizable as Mistoffelees, but they still had to keep in mind that, in fact, it was. Four sets of eyes stared back at him, fighting back reigned reactions and comments in hopes one of the assisting queens would intervene.

Tugger was the first of the four toms to break the awkward stare down; his sputtering laughter spraying Plato and Alonzo beside him with rum and spit. "You still in there, buddy?" he breathlessly guffawed. "That dress looks like it could sneak ten of us in there! Hell, pack a cooler and we can bring our own drinks!"

Beside the fluffy tom-turned-queen, Bombalurina shot daggers: all the hard work she'd put in the past hour and a half was now standing at the scrutiny of a couple naïve toms. She bristled in irritation.

Still giggling, the mane coon moved to the front of the crowd; pushing past Munkustrap and Plato to get a closer look at the lavender decked queen. "She's almost as tall as I am," he noted as he leveled their shoulders to demonstrate the added height. His eye quickly caught hold of the supportive hand pressed against her chest to keep the seemingly uncooperative bosom close, a sly grin broke out across his tanned lips.

Mistoffelees' eyes narrowed suspiciously, watching as the flirt's gaze fell from the height of his head to the girth of his bust. From the corner of his eye he could see the coon's rather unimpressed brother cross his arms: practicing self control. "Touch me, Tugger, and I swear I'll- SHIT!"

Without much warning, the tom's new ankles gave out beneath him and sent him crashing to the floor. Despite the minimum eight inches added to his height, the fall wasn't nearly enough to evoke more than a surprised yelp. Unfortunately, the dress wasn't so resilient to bumps and tumbles. The unforgiving ripping of the expensive fabric kinked in his stomach. Along with his dress, the tux's disguise gave way, relinquishing the fluffy white fur for a slick, black coat and socks.

"Fucking shoes!" the tuxed tom spat, trying to kick off the homicidal culprits.

With a thoughtful frown, Munkustrap had made his way over and began unlatching the buckles anchoring his already swollen feet to the platforms. Years of being designated undresser for tired, whiny, and uncoordinated kits and drunken queens had left him equipped to deal with most wardrobe obstacles.

Mistoffelees worked himself into a seated position and, pulling his leg over, began unbuckling as the tabby had. Over Munkustrap's shoulder, he could see Tugger flush and draw his gaze up to the ceiling. A low wolf-whistle immediately caught the tabby's attention and Mistoffelees soon found himself being pushed back onto his elbows; a sharp grunt and an equally brusque tug of his dress evoked a blush of his own. Looking down, he saw his dress had been yanked to cover his indecencies: his unaccustomed queenly parts. Glancing at his chest he also found his dress protruding; straining and holding to keep him concealed.

Calmly, Munkustrap beckoned Victoria over from her perch at the door. Bombalurina had already begun undoing the second shoe. "We're probably going to need another dress," Victoria mumbled, eyes bulging at the sight of the ghastly tear.

"If it's alright with her," Munkustrap began, biting back the bitterness in his voice and the encroaching regret.  
"Ask Demeter if he can borrow her brown formal gown. It has shoulders so he won't have to hold his chest all night and it's short enough to walk in."

"I'm sure Demeter will be thrilled to help, Munk," Tugger jested behind them. Giving a hardy chuckle before leaving the chaotic corner of the room to munch on the complementary snacks with his tom friends.

Bombalurina tossed the stiletto off to the side. "I'll go see about that dress." As she got up to leave, Mistoffelees couldn't help but notice the disappointed look on her face as she eyed the whole mess of fur, makeup, and shimmering silk before high-tailing it out of the den.

In front of him, Munkustrap carefully leaned into Victoria, tossing the other toms an apprehensive glance before murmuring, "You should see about finding him some panties or something. I don't think going commando's a good idea." She bit her lip to suppress a small smile, silently motioning for them to follow her into the back room without the other toms' unwanted input.

Despite himself, Mistoffelees blushed hotly at the thought of... he could hardly bring himself to say it... _panties. _Even the word sounded horrific and degrading. Mainly because it applied to him and not some hot, sexy queen.

Cleverly working around the tear to avoid another peep show, the two toms managed to get him up onto solid, if not a bit swollen, feet. It felt good to be eight inches closer to the ground.

Half an hour later, Bombalurina ran in breathless and flushed. The dress crumpled up under her shoulder and a white lumpy grocery bag in her hand. "I..." pausing for a breather, she chuffed past a chuckle. "I had to steal it from her closet. Bitch has too many shoes. Tossing the dress to her assistant and the shoes to the ground, she carelessly tossed herself to the bed for a much deserved rest.

The second dress was a lot easier to manage, though considerably less elaborate and classy than Griddlebone's. Its overall shade reminded Mistoffelees of a decent hybrid between gold and olive with a couple thin layers of black mesh to accent the shirt of the dress. He couldn't see where Munkustrap had figured brown, but he wouldn't bother him with it now; he did find them a much more functional back-up plan. Thank the Everlasting Cat that this dress had a much more modest design to it for his chest, with the help of the painfully feminine _brassier, _was under control and a lot less worrisome. It even came with adjustable straps that, much to his relief, Munkustrap also knew how to manipulate.

Swapped in for the neck-breaking stilettos were a pair of shorter pumps that, although still threatened to throw him to the ground, were much more survivable. Overall the end result was much more satisfying if not a little under-dressed.

Although he would never admit it to anyone, the panties Victoria had dug up for him did take a load off his mind. Though he had to wonder if the suggestion of panties were less for his sake and more for the tabby's enjoyment; male underwear would have done just fine. At least now he didn't have to worry about anymore surprises... unless mood swings were part of the package deal.

Now fully disguised and ready to go, Mistoffelees was granted another reveal, this time to a crowd of well dressed toms in suits and expensive shoes. He had to admit that, although not much for clothes-wearing and high fashion, Jellicles had surprisingly good taste in style.

He recognized the fine suit his 'date' wore as the neglected outfit loitering about the flat for the past 6 months. Now ironed and coupled with an olive dress shirt, it was more than ready to be presented to the most posh of the upper class with its shiny cufflinks and smooth creases. The tom himself smiled back; a cross between awed appreciation for the white shemale and a preening display whilst he was being checked out.

Beside him, Mistoffelees spotted Tugger sporting a more casual get-up; a simple blazer and gray dress pants. He hated how, no matter how little shits the Coon had to give, he could still walk out the door looking like a superstar. It took Mistoffelees a grand total of five hours with a team of qualified beauticians to look the least bit presentable by queen standards. It wasn't fair.

"They look uneven," Plato noted, still in his fur.

Beside him, Tugger eyed the set and nodded. "They could be bigger too."

Victoria frowned at her mate, biting the inside of her cheek. "Anything else?" Plato immediately shrunk back to the bowl of chips, eyes to the rings of juice and alcohol on the table.

"Damn, they're right," Bombalurina admitted, arranging Mistoffelees' chest for the zillionth time.

"After you, M'lady."

Mistoffelees glared up at the tabby from the passenger seat. "You're not funny," he grunted, tucking a small pistol in the holster strapped to his thigh.

"Just trying to be a gentleman," Munkustrap blinked. "You should make an effort to be more feminine: you're not going to fool anyone." He offered a hand which the white she-tom took with an overzealous smile.

"Just sticking to character, dear," Mistoffelees chirped girlishly, giving the tabby a firm pat on the cheek, emerging from the car with as much grace as he could muster in a dress.

Taking the lead, Munkustrap linked arms with the unusually tall Mistoffelees. "You think you can make it to the door without them escaping?" he smiled when the snowy queen grabbed and fussed over the triple-D breasts. With a final shuffle, Mistoffelees smiled contentedly before looping his arm with the tabby's, already taking advantage of his weight to counteract the added weight.

Without warning, Mistoffelees and his oversized bosom tumbled back onto the door of the car, sandwiched uncomfortably between it and the tabby's body. Despite the threat of pumps, Munkustrap managed to unfetter Mistoffelees' foot from the pavement and mount it on his hip. The hand gripping his knee crept up his thigh, disappearing under the olive hem.

Still somewhat bewildered, Mistoffelees blinked, watching as Munkustrap's other hand vanished under his dress. It was an errant thought, but the young tom couldn't help but wonder if this particular dress has seen these strong, sturdy hands roaming underneath its tulle before. On Demeter. A small pang of anger at the thought before it was chased off with a curious, new sensation.

The fingertips running along his thigh were soft, gentle, and impinging. The creep of skin trailing through fur sparked a myriad of strange, yet interesting, feelings he'd never had before. It freaked him out how, by tracing the inner curve of his leg, his lips were humming and tingling with heat. Biting down, Mistoffelees squirmed as he stifled a small whimper; more from the agony of stimulation that, although welcomed, was much to intense in this new body. His thighs never felt so energized from such a simple touch before. Granted, Munkustrap had never really touched him there with such gentle, tender care. No one had, for that matter.

Only a small sigh dared voice his pleasure as the tabby fumbled under his date's dress, manipulating the holster. "The gun goes on the inside... Griddle?" The white queen opened her eyes, teeth still sunken into her glossed lips. It took not even a moment for Munkustrap's serious poker face to break out into a mischievous grin, eyes alight and smoldering. "Are you alright?"

Mistoffelees nodded, trying his best to compose himself despite the thumbs deliberately teasing dangerously close to his panties. "Don't touch that! I'm not quite sure what it does yet..." he warned as they crept closer and closer to his newfound ladybits.

Pressing their bodies close, Munkustrap leaned in to hotly breathe in his ear, "Lucky for you, I happen to know quite a bit." Chuckling, he experimentally stroked over his mate's unfamiliarities; the response was instant, and intense. With his uncharacteristically queenish voice, Mistoffelees moaned, melting into a soft, mushy puddle on the window beneath him. With all these misplaced sensations running about, he wondered if the jelly in his knees would send him crashing to the ground if this was kept up. His hands crumpled the neatly pressed suit around the shoulders.

Munkustrap's grin reach from one ear to the other. "But now's not the time." With a parting kiss, the tabby hauled himself off the she-tom, making sure to straighten out the dress to prevent another peep show. Stunned and, frankly, a little unsure whether he could trust himself to carry on, Mistoffelees waited until the shaky feelings went away.

Panting harshly, his eyes narrowed on the smug tom patiently waiting. He swear he could see a hint of pride, but also a sultry, searching glare. "You sick perv," Mistoffelees mumbled between pants.

"Excuse me," jumping, the two spun around to the front of the car to spot a rather dashing Tugger humbly swaggering over. His name-tag read "Colostine" but his hair clearly said "undercover Jellicle sex-god" as was always his style. "Would you like me to take your car to the lot?" A valet? How classy.

Without missing a beat, Munkustrap dug out the simple key ring and tossed it to the eager server, cool and composed as ever. "Try not to scratch the paint this time," he winked.

Tugger grinned back, this time tossing a knowing side-glance at the blushing white beauty. "Certainly. And you two enjoy your evening."


End file.
